


Metal

by Verabird



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (1963), Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Aliens Made Them Do It, BDSM, Body Modification, Chains, Cock Cages, Gags, M/M, Nipple Piercings, Pretty intense stuff and it's important to let your readers know what they're getting into, Sexual Slavery, Torture, i like to think the ending makes up for all the (literal) pain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-22
Updated: 2015-04-22
Packaged: 2018-03-25 04:52:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3797431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Verabird/pseuds/Verabird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I felt bad for torturing the Doctor all the time, so I thought it was the Master's turn to feel vulnerable.</p><p> </p><p>The Doctor and the Master are trying to enjoy a pleasant galaxy cruise when the ship is attacked by an alien press gang. The Master is dragged away from the Doctor kicking and screaming as they're split up. </p><p>He works it out pretty quickly. He's being prepared to be sold as a sex slave.</p><p>His only hope is in the Doctor and his much needed rescue. Sooner rather than later before too much damage can be done.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The Master leaned against the cool metal railing of the ship. A simulated breeze swept through his hair, and he felt almost peaceful as he gazed out at the stars of the Setrois Galaxy. When the Doctor came to join him, slipping a hand round the Master's waist, and leaning in a little too close the Master sighed.

"What do you want?"

"It's a holiday," The Doctor replied, indignant. "We're supposed to be relaxing."

"Well, I was. Until you had to come along."

The Master slid along the railing, away from the Doctor, bracing his palms against the metal. The Doctor looked at him forlornly, but turned back to the drink in his other hand and took a gulp with abandon. "You could at least try."

The Master rolled his eyes. "I'm still your prisoner. I haven't forgotten."

"You're not my prisoner." The Doctor sighed and placed his now empty glass on a nearby table, but not before taking the tiny paper umbrella and slipping it behind his ear. He glanced coquettishly at the Master.

"You're ridiculous."

"I think it's rather fetching."

The Master turned away from the edge of the ship and leaned back on his elbows facing inwards. It was perpetual night on the Setrois cruise, but they did keep to a schedule, the well-dressed passengers spilling out of the dining room and across the deck.

"You're not my prisoner," The Doctor repeated. "You're more like...my patient. I need to take care of you so with me you stay."

"You're so dreadfully dull sometimes." The Master yawned widely, adjusting his tie. The Doctor had changed into black-tie for the evening whereas the Master was wearing his monochrome suit 24/7. "I don't need fixing my dear, I'm perfectly happy just the way I am."

"Mmmm." The Doctor reached up to fiddle with the umbrella behind his ear. "It's very peaceful here."

"You've already said that. If you're going to force us into conversation you could at least attempt some originality. We always end up going round in circles because you're afraid of saying what you truly mean."

"Fine." The Doctor pushed himself off the railing and began to walk back across the deck, turning over his shoulder to shout something back at the Master. "Don't talk to me then. I'll be in our cabin."

"Good," The Master muttered, then repeated himself a little louder to make sure the Doctor got the full effect. He wandered over to one of the sun loungers that were populated with tourists during the day, taking advantage of the UV light coming from the Setrois Sol, burning their skin in the process.

The Master absently touched a smooth cheek. He'd been burnt before; not so pleasant. And he'd once had skin like a cracked desert; also not so fun. He played with the plastic slots in the chair glancing out at the galaxy beyond while feeling utterly bored. It was more quiet than peaceful. An eerie kind of quiet, unnatural as if there was something waiting in the darkness ready to strike.

He stood up and thrust his hands into his pockets, heading out across the deck. It was cold. The ship was designed to mirror an old-fashioned Earth liner, complete with sea noises and wind and salty mist sprayed into the air.

Suddenly the whole deck shook and the Master lost his footing on the wooden slats. He flung a hand out to catch himself then scrambled to his feet. The dim lanterns had flickered slightly and were now a dull lurid colour, as if something had taken a whack of energy out of the generator. He murmured some tasteless joke about it being an iceberg before deciding to head back to the cabin. The Doctor would probably be in some kind of panic, wondering if it was his fault, or if he'd flung himself overboard. Not that it was possible to do.

A metallic voice came over the loudspeakers positioned round deck. "All passengers please return to your rooms. All passengers please remain in your rooms until further notice."

Okay, the Master thought, something was definitely wrong. Probably just an engine failure or a problem with the air-conditioning, but why would they request passengers stay inside for that?

He was back inside, walking the maze of corridors that led to the cabins, picking up the pace to a light jog. He'd take the Doctor's nonsensical ramblings about whatever was going on over ignorant silence. He turned down the hallway where their room lay and stopped abruptly.

At the end of the corridor, where previously had been a blank wall, a gaping tear was ripped into the side of the ship. The hull had been torn at the seams, wires and shrapnel dripping from the jagged edges. He couldn't see the stars beyond, but instead the hull of another ship, darker in colour.

He staggered back a pace when he saw the creatures crawling through. They were smooth white, vaguely humanoid, with metal joints and four arms. A group of three where rattling along the corridor towards him.

The door to their cabin, where the unsuspecting Doctor lay, was halfway between his present position and the gap in the ship. Throwing caution to the wind he decided to make a run for it. One of the creatures twitched and turned towards him, beginning a click clacking sprint down the hall. The Master felt ridiculous running towards the enemy, but part of his brain was preventing him from leaving the Doctor alone. So that was two enemies he was running towards. He made a mental note to pick his battles.

He hadn't reached the room by the time the creature was face to face. It reared up and made a grab for him with arms ending in metal pincers. The Master darted out the way with surprising agility, hearing the loud snap as the pincers connected with each other in midair. The door fell open and the Doctor collapsed out of it, his screwdriver waving in one hand a terrified look plastered to his face. He saw the Master immediately, dodging another swipe.

"What's going on? What are they?" He demanded, pointing his sonic at one of the creatures.

"We'll get acquainted with names later I think." The Master kicked out at one of the creature's legs, but the tough metal only served to bruise his toe. With ease, the creature knocked the Doctor's screwdriver out of his hand and grabbed his wrist in a tight circle of metal. The Doctor flailed uselessly, but his other hand was caught in the pincer, rendering his struggles useless.

The Master watched in horror, caught off guard for just a second, and another set of pincers was clasped around his throat. He choked and reached both hands up to wrestle with the tight metal, but it was impossible.

"Let him go!" The Doctor yelled. "Whatever it is you want we can help."

The Master's eyelids rolled shut in exasperation. The Doctor was useless, always choosing the wrong aliens to bargain with. When he opened his eyes a pincer was thrust close to his face, a scanner pressed against him. There was a pause before a green light flashed and the creature began to drag the Master by the neck towards the hole in the ship.

"Stop!" The Doctor shouted after them. "Let him go! Please! I'm begging you!"

The Master tripped a few times, the pincers holding his neck too low for him to walk steadily. He tried to twist his head to see what was happening to the Doctor, but he was already out through the hull and into the ship beyond. The creature didn't loosen its hold until they'd reached a small chamber, plain and dark, the only thing in it was a raised platform in the centre.

The sharp pincers grabbed his limbs without care and maneuvered him to lie flat on his back on the platform. He struggled, but didn't plead or beg, knowing that these creatures were far from sentient. There was another controller behind this. His hands and ankles slotted into cuffs that were closed tight around his skin. He heard the click of metal as his captors left the room, no doubt to capture more passengers from the ship. He breathed deeply taking stock of the room, but he couldn't see anything, and the cuffs were strong as steel not allowing him to twist to look at all.

"Hello?" He called tentatively. "Is anyone there? Doctor?"

No reply. Only silence.


	2. Chapter 2

The silence was tortuously long and the Master felt his shoulders begin to ache with the stressful position. He'd given up calling for help. His throat was hoarse and he'd quickly learned it was a futile task. As soon as he heard voices behind a door just above his head he began to pull at his vicious bonds again. They wouldn't budge an inch and his hearts raced in fearful anticipation.

"Quite a haul."

"Yes, some of them should attract good buyers."

The Master strained to see the owners of the footsteps, but they stood infuriatingly behind him. He could feel them watching his every yank and pull at the chains and he burned with anger.

"Let me out of this thing!" He yelled to the ceiling. His voice echoed uselessly round the room as a man in a lab coat came into sight.

"Feisty one isn't he," He remarked, noting something down on a clipboard.

"I'll show you feisty," The Master growled, pulling hard on the chains, only succeeding in nearly pulling a shoulder muscle. "I'll make you pay for this. Release me!"

The other man, in matching lab coat, clearly another scientist, came round to the Master's other side and gazed at him curiously.

"He's not human," He said casually. "Look at the tests we've been running so far."

He brought up an image on a tablet that the Master couldn't see. The scientists raised their eyebrows and murmured in surprise and excitement.

"Tests? You've been testing me? This is a violation!"

One of the scientists turned to him and laughed, outright and openly and the Master flushed in fury. How dare this puny insect of a man laugh at him.

"What?" He spat.

"We really should shut him up. Time to get on with the procedure I think."

"Procedure? What procedure? Release me at once or I'll-mmphf!"

A sphere of hard rubber was shoved into the Master's mouth and behind his teeth. He tried to spit it out, but a hand held it firmly in place. He Master screamed loudly behind the intrusion as he felt it expand in his mouth, firm rubber spreading into every empty corner until his lips were stretched wide. When the hand was taken away there was no chance he'd be able to expel it on his own.

Both scientists moved behind a sheet of glass and out of the Master's view, he looked around wildly for an explanation, but there was none to be given.

He let his head fall back against the cool metal table and stared up at the ceiling in despair. There was no foreseeable way out of this and for all he knew the Doctor could be in a similar situation.

The voices were muffled now, and the Master was left with his thoughts and the suspicious hum of metal instruments. He'd almost calmed down when a device with several long metal arms hovered over his body, springing into quick action. He writhed away as far as the bonds would allow, but one of the arms was already scanning over his entire body.

A thin beam of red light shot out, starting at his ankles and working upwards. He could feel it vaporising the material of his suit. It was precise, no mistakes to be made, and the cloth fell clean off his flesh leaving his skin unharmed.

He flushed red in humiliation as he realised he was naked for the two voyeuristic scientists in the corner and tried to draw his legs together. As if guessing his next moves, the chains around his wrists and ankles pulled outwards and he felt the table bend slightly, raising against his lower back, leaving his body arched and taut. There was no give in the chains now, his body now stretched to capacity and every bit exposed.

He yelled expletives behind the gag in his mouth, his tongue impossibly trapped. He yelled even louder when he saw more metal arms move towards his face. They stopped short, barely inches away, and he saw bright sparks before closing his eyes instinctively against the light.

Cold harsh metal was wrapping around his neck, forming perfectly to his skin, flexible and smooth. It didn't constrict, but the Master suddenly felt like he couldn't breath. He saw the lights flicker and fade and he knew without touching that the metal collar was welded in a complete strip around his neck.

A similar process was happening to his wrists and ankles and he was helpless to stop himself becoming permanently trapped in silver bonds. The cuffs felt heavy and tight, formed perfectly to his skin and unwelcome.

The Master shouted some more into his gag, but he knew it was useless. The only option was to sit back and let this happen and pray that the Doctor would find him. His mind raced with thoughts of the Doctor in his position. Would he bother to rescue him at all? Would he leave him to the mercy of these slavers?

He closed his eyes and breathed slowly through his nose, trying desperately to find some calm. He yelped and his eyes flashed open as cold metal touched his chest. Looking down as far as his stretched position would allow, he saw two metal arms slide over his bare skin.

They came to rest just over his nipples and the Master strained to see what was happening. He was having to tell simply by the sensation of touch and the sensory deprivation scared him.

A sound of pain escaped his throat as the metal arms pinched each nipple in a tight grip. He saw them retreating slightly into the ceiling, and they pulled out painfully. He wasn't prepared for what was to come next.

He screamed and bit down hard on rubber in his mouth as two bolts of pain shot through his nipples. The arms retreated, but a fiery burn spread across his chest and he moaned pitifully into the gag. He tried to lift his head, but couldn't see properly what had been done to him. A thin sheen of sweat was rising across his body, his hearts racing.

The arms moved all the way down his chest and came to rest over his crotch area. He screamed hard, thrashed about in the milimetre of give, but there was no mercy here.

The cold metal arms closed around his cock and he could feel them moving it and stroking it in their solid grip. Something slid up and over the base, and then more hard material was encasing his cock. There was no pain, only moderate discomfort, and he'd had enough experiences with these devices to know what was trapped there.

Once the arms were finished fitting the chastity cage nice and snug, they retreated into the ceiling and didn't return. The Master panted heavily through his nose, the pain in his nipples still throbbing and burning, his cock demanding air.

The soft hum of machinery came to a close and the two scientists came round their screen to stand over him.

The Master didn't look at them, his eyes fixed on the ceiling in despair, his face red with humiliation. He wasn't going to satisfy them by meeting their gaze.

"He already looks nice and submissive," One of them remarked, and the Master mentally cursed him.

"Mmm," The other agreed. "Well, to the cells then."

The chains around his wrists loosened slightly and the Master felt his body relax into a less strained position. The table moved of its own accord, leaving him sitting upright. Then the metal pressed against his back fell away and his wrists suddenly snapped together behind him. There was nothing connecting them, no rope or chain, just some kind of magnetic pull holding the permanent cuffs together.

One scientist bent over his chest doing something he couldn't see and the next thing he knew his sore nipples were stinging all over again. The pain never seemed to subside, it remained at a dull throbbing ache.

His ankles were released and he felt himself pulled off the table by a small link chain wound round one of the scientist's hands. The Master could feel his cheeks burning hot as he finally looked down and saw the ends of the chain attached to the two new piercings on his chest. The chain clipped onto the rings that now pierced his nipples, and the metal wasn't thin.

The scientist gave a sharp yank and the Master screamed as best he could behind the gag, the pain almost too much. The scientist held the chain out and too high, forcing strain on his incredibly sore nipples.

The scientist's grip was tight and he had to move fast to keep up and prevent the pain from rippling through his body from his chest. The Master was shoved into a cell before the chain was removed, the door locked, and footsteps disappeared down the corridor.

The cuffs snapped free from behind his back and finally the Master could examine himself. The metal loops in his nipples were similar to the silver cuffs and collar; there was no connection. They were just never ending bands of metal, an incredible feet of engineering, but one he didn't want tested on his most sensitive parts.

His hands ran down to the discomfort in his groin and he looked at the shiny silver encasing his cock. He felt violated and ashamed and he'd give anything to be back on the infuriating cruise with the Doctor. For all he knew there was no hope of the Doctor ever finding him here and he was doomed to be a slave forever.

He had a sharp intuition what kind of slave he was being forced to become.

He crouched down in a corner of the cell, unable to sit down without putting pressure from the cage on his balls. So he had to settle for resting on his haunches against a wall. He wrapped his arms around him, and for a moment he could pretend they were the Doctor's, but the feeling didn't last.

He couldn't even begin to make a sound to sob behind the gag.


	3. Chapter 3

The Master felt like he'd been crouching for hours, days perhaps. It was hard to tell in the seamless cell. He'd expected prison conditions, a concrete floor, and perhaps a bed, but it was completely empty of furniture. The floor was a sleek black, sectioned by grey lines into a perfect cube. He felt like a lab rat trapped in a box.

There was a loud cough and the Master thought it must have been him, but then his fingers fiddled with the rubber in his mouth and knew it wasn't. There was another cough, scratchy like it came through a radio, and then a monotonous voice began to speak.

"Who you previously were does not matter. You are now a slave. You will be trained in this facility until you are bought. You will learn to please and serve your master."

The Master raised his head barely an inch, trying to work out where the voice was coming from, if there was a weak spot in the room, some electricity or a cable or...

"A good slave is rewarded. A bad slave is punished. These are the only rules."

The Master considered for a moment. The voice was eerily like his own, except for the undignified scratchiness and lack of passion. He knew that the creatures he'd been captured by cared for methodical purchase and profit and not for style and nuance. They knew nothing of what it meant to rule.

"You will stand."

The Master felt his pride remain rooted to the spot. Knowing it was futile to refuse, knowing that this was a stupid act of resistance.

"A bad slave is punished."

The Master felt a familiar magnetic pull on his collar and he was forced to his feet by the strength of it. Trying to remain on the floor for as long as possible would have choked him. The silver cuffs around his ankles began to move apart, and he shuffled as fast as he could to keep up with them. They forced his legs to spread wide, stretching him to a painful limit, then an inch further. The force on his collar kept him upright while his feet were spread, but then it began to pull forward.

He found himself bending at the waist which released a particular amount of strain on his thighs. He breathed heavily through his nose, soft moans of pain and indignation barely escaping round the gag. He was folded almost completely over when the tug on his neck stopped.

He began to violently struggle against his wrists as they were pulled back and up behind him. They snapped together, but kept raising, his elbows pushed painfully close together, until he was in an extreme strapedo.

"A bad slave is punished," The voice intoned again, and the crackle had barely left the room before he felt the first sting.

The blow against the back of his thighs threw him forward and he gritted his teeth against the pain, refusing to cry out. He couldn't see his instrument of torture, but he could feel its agonising effects every time it whacked hard across is spread arse cheeks.

He whimpered and cried out as every painful lash struck his flesh. Every jolt forwards put a strain on his elbows and shoulders, but try to rise up slightly and the muscles in his thighs began to burn.

Tears began to stream down his hot flushed cheeks and the way he could hear his own whimpers echo round the room simply humiliated him even more. Perhaps the machine knew of his strong biology, or maybe it was designed to be cruel, but he counted roughly a hundred stinging lashes before it relented.

He was kept bent in the uncomfortable position for several minutes after the whipping finished. He could feel the welts, thin and bruising, and knew the instrument was probably some kind of thin leather strap. Finally the pressure on his neck, wrists, and ankles was released and he fell forwards. He landed hard and immediately curled himself up into a tight ball, one hand running across his back. He drew his hand to his eyes and saw bright scarlet blood.

Every part of him stung and burnt. His back, his thighs, his neck, his shoulders, his nipples, his dignity and pride. They stung worst of all.


	4. Chapter 4

When the voice told the Master to stand, he scrabbled to his feet as quickly as possible. It took some difficulty, considering the bonds in awkward places, but the voice didn't seem keen to punish him again so quickly.

"A good slave is rewarded."

The Master tensed as he felt his ankles spread again, but they didn't go nearly as far, forcing his feet to plant firmly into the ground. His wrists came next, pulled outwards away from his body, and the pressure on his neck prevented him from falling limp.

He heard a sound behind his back and tried to turn, but before he could a metal arm had touched his spine. He arched his back away in surprise at the cold, but the arm was simply moving in small circles across his back, rubbing a soothing cream into every welt and red slash across his skin.

He was restrained and he'd been whipped and chained and humiliated, so he could hardly relax as the cream cooled his stinging back. But it was more comfortable than the punishment even if it wasn't really a reward.

It was over almost too quickly and the metal withdrew. The cuffs gave way and once again he was left lying on the floor in shame.

It was barely a few minutes later when the ominous voice returned. The Master had gone limp, his eyelids flickering closed, so the voice startled him.

"You will kneel."

He heaved himself to his feet and knelt expectantly on the hard black floor.

"A good slave is rewarded."

The Master cringed at the words, but the floor beneath him began to shift until it was no longer hard and painful against his knees, but there was a small amount of padding there.

His wrists snapped together behind his back and he tugged at them reflexively, squirming uselessly in their grip.

He suddenly felt the pressure in his mouth decrease, and realised that the stiff ball of rubber was shrinking. As soon as he was able he spat the wretched thing out and moved his jaw in small circles. It ached to close it, and he found a relatively comfortable position with his lips slightly parted.

He was so concerned with his aching jaw that he didn't notice the metal pole that had extended from the floor, inches away. Two tiny arms with vicious looking clamps on the end reached towards his chest. It was a futile task to writhe away, but he did. Each arm grabbed a tight hold on his nipple piercings and used them to pull him forwards and upright.

As he arched his back to compensate for the pain, his arms were pulled further out behind him and he groaned in pain and discomfort until he found a middle ground.

"You will eat," The voice intoned.

There was silence and stillness for a moment. The Master glanced around the room, waiting for some kind of food to emerge but there was no sound or movement. When he looked back in front of him his eyes widened in contempt and fear. It was silver and shiny and unlike humanoid flesh, but there was no mistaking the shape of the object in front of him. The dildo was larger and thicker than anything he'd encountered, and he'd been to some strange places.

"You will eat," The voice spoke calmly again, and the Master realised that whatever nourishment he was expected to consume, he'd get it from the vile thing in front of him.

It moved forward of its own accord, cool metal forcing itself against the Master's lips and spreading them with ease. It clicked against his teeth and kept pushing back until it was flush against his throat. He had to spread his mouth wide to accommodate it and remain very calm and still to keep from metal brushing against his throat.

He wasn't sure what he was expected to do, so he just did what came naturally. He began to suck on the metal dildo which slowly became hot and wet in his mouth. It took a moment, but soon a stream of hot sweet liquid was spilling down his throat. It felt odd in his stomach and the sensation made his skin sweat and tingle. It didn't take a stretch of the imagination to assume that whatever they were feeding him was full of chemicals to change him.

He sucked until his lips were sore and bright red, drool escaping his mouth and dribbling down his chin in a humiliating display. If only the Doctor could see me now, he thought wryly. Oh how he'd longed to see him with a cock rammed in his mouth, he could tell by the pleading look in those ridiculous wide eyes.

He almost wanted to laugh. He was fed until he was full and then past that, until eventually the thing slipped out his mouth. He panted softly, wanting to wipe the mix of saliva and strange liquid from his chin, but his hands were still bound behind him. His nipples were released and he was grateful for that, and next came his wrists.

He immediately went to wipe his mouth with the back of his hand, but before he could touch skin with skin the voice was shouting loudly.

"A bad slave does not clean himself unless told. A bad slave is punished."

"That's not fair!" The Master whined, feeling utterly miserable, his wet mouth a further testament to his humiliation. "I swear I will make you pay for this you insolent-"

"A bad slave insults his master. A bad slave is punished."

His wrists snapped to the floor and began to spread out so he was forced to lie on his back. He felt a weight around his neck as his collar fastened to the floor as well. Then his ankles began to pull apart and he was being spread eagle. His ankles were pushed beyond what his thighs could take and he cried out as the burning began. It felt like they were almost in the splits by the time the yanking and tugging stopped.

He couldn't see what was happening, all he felt was a slick substance pressed against his extremely vulnerable and exposed arse and then something cold sliding against it. He squirmed away from the obvious intrusion, but the robotic nature of the punishment was relentless.

The Master gritted his teeth and prepared himself for the worst. He was no stranger to penetration, but in this particular body that part of him remained virgin. He preferred to take what was his rather than give himself up, and no one, not even the Doctor, was allowed to penetrate him in that place.

The base of the thing pushing into him was wide and he couldn't shift in his position to allow any give. The metal didn't stop, but kept a steady unrelenting push into his arse. The Master could have taken it slow, perhaps, but the speed made it near impossible to bear. His fists clenched and he created new white nail beds across his palms.

He panted through gritted teeth as what seemed like the thickest part of the intrusion slid past his entrance, but it kept coming and it was widening, thicker still. He felt so full and completely violated as the thing pushed up inside him. It was three times what he could take.

The pushing stopped and he breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that no more would be pushed in. But, the punishment wasn't complete. The cold metal inside him began to expand. The Master felt like he was being kneaded open from the inside as his sphincter was stretched beyond what even the most masochistic submissive could bear. He howled in pain, feeling his virgin arse clenching tight around the intrusion, but there was no one to plead with. Metal arms lacked empathy.

The Master was completely filled up with what felt like the size of a fist before the metal began to retract. He was gasping for air by this time, sweat forming on his brow in a mark of surrender.

As the intrusion shrunk back to the size it had begun, which felt strangely small now, it slid out of his body. Again his bonds held him in place, forcing him to remain still while his mind reeled and he just wanted to wrap his arms tight around himself.

He felt almost delirious as the cuffs released him from his spread position and he eased himself into a fetal position. He couldn't process what was happening to him, none of it seemed real.

"Doctor," He whispered, hardly audible, his lips barely moving. "Please find me, Doctor. Please."


	5. Chapter 5

It carried on in a similar manner over the next few days. For the Master it felt simultaneously longer and shorter. Every hour on the hour, the voice told him he must eat, and dutifully he knelt while his wrists were cuffed behind him and his nipples stretched painfully out, and he sucked from the metal cock. The liquid felt almost comforting now.

He'd learned to obey, even if he just told himself it was all temporary. He wasn't actually submitting, he was just surviving until the Doctor came to rescue him. He'd been in worse situations, although he couldn't think exactly what at that moment, but he knew how to survive.

The Master's mind was wandering when the voice spoke to him again.

"You will stand."

The motions seemed familiar and slightly natural by now as he rose to his weary feet and waited for what would happen next. He felt the cuffs round his wrists being drawn upwards until they were stretched tight above his head with just a little slack to twist around. Then his ankles were drawn apart slightly and his collar held his head upright.

Three smaller metal arms came to rest in front of his face and he watched them in trepidation. Two predictably headed to his chest where they took hold of the nipple rings and pulled them slightly outwards. The third moved towards his face, and kept moving, until the Master realised he had to part his mouth to let it through, otherwise it would smash into his teeth. Strong metal clamped round his tongue and then started to extend it out his mouth. He moaned something in protest, but his tongue was forced outwards.

He hung in the chains and uncomfortable restraints for a long while. He almost missed the voice's command, at least there was structure and order there.

"A good slave presents themselves to potential masters."

The Master writhed a little at the words. Did that mean he was about to be sold? The real issue was whether a new master would be any less cruel than the robotic arms that forcefully manipulated him. He also didn't know if his dignity would survive if he was enslaved to a human.

A seamless panel in his cell slid open and the Master recoiled as he saw people walking past in the corridor beyond. He felt ashamed to be seen like this and he reminded himself that he'd allowed himself to be pliable, allowed himself to be trapped in this position.

A few faces glanced in at him, but most walked past, he almost felt offended. Finally a pair of young men stepped into his room and allowed the door to close behind him.

"I've told you already E'rik, this one's too fresh. Barely trained at all."

"I know," E'rik said wistfully to his companion, gazing up and down the Master's presented body. "But look at him. Look at his eyes Banra, just look."

"Exactly my point," Banra replied. "Full of hope and determination. He's a rebel you can tell. Trust me, he'll make a useless slave."

The Master flushed red in embarrassment, feeling like a piece of meat strung up in the slaughter house. E'rik moved forward and flicked his wrist, conjuring a holographic screen, he pressed a few buttons.

"Apparently he's been very obedient lately." He hummed in approval as he swiped through vital stats and training history. His eyes glanced down towards the Master's cock where it was still trapped in the silver cage. A few days ago the voice had plainly told him that 'a good slave does not need to please himself' and from that moment on his hands never wandered near it. He'd learned that pleasure was forbidden now, unless it was graciously granted.

The Master tried to speak, an impossible task with his tongue infuriatingly clamped out of his mouth, and he only succeeded in dripping drool down his chest and moaning incomprehensibly.

Banra whistled low through his teeth and E'rik looked almost desperate with arousal. "You have to admit," He told his companion as the door slid open again. "He is beautiful."

The Master watched them leave, glad he wasn't being sold to either of them. He didn't like being inspected like he was cattle, or talked about like he was an inanimate object. He seethed silently, plotting out all the vicious ways he'd make everyone responsible pay.

The door slid open again and he heard a forced laugh from the other side. A man was trying to finish up an uncomfortable conversation with one of the dealers. He gave a cheery wave then backed into the room, immediately changing his persona as the door closed.

"Don't worry. This is your rescue," His soft accented voice glided across the room. "I'm buying all of the slaves on this ship, you're being freed, you're safe and..."

The voice trailed off and the Master glanced up. Then his eyes widened in surprise, shock, fierce shame and then fear. His began to frantically pull at the bonds holding him, practically screaming as much as he could with his tongue painfully pulled out.

"Woah, easy now," Jack said, darting to the screen and pressing a few buttons. The Master groaned as the pressure on his wrists lifted up and he was pulled up high onto his toes, his ankle cuffs stretching him as they connected to the floor. "Wow."

Jack Harkness looked just as shocked as the Master did to find his old captor in practically the same position he'd been in merely a few years ago.

The Master continued to struggle even though there was no give now, and he only succeeded in scraping his wrists and causing painful friction burns.

"Well well well."

"'ease, 'ack," The Master tried to speak, feeling utterly humiliated. "'ease, I'm 'egging."

Jack tried to contain a smile, but failed, and he couldn't help it broadening across his whole face.

"I guess today is my lucky day."

"I 'eed the 'octor, 'ease!"

"Sorry didn't quite catch that."

Jack's eyes slid up and down the Master's stretched and taut body. He whistled through his teeth in admiration and the Master's eyes burned in fury. He began to play with the screen, swiping through all of the Master's stats.

"Obedient?" He laughed. "That's a good one. Oh! And look at this! It says here that you're a virgin."

Jack was grinning in absolute delight, the former torturer and conman for the time agency easing itself out of him. The Master scowled in response, face flushed in indignation. Those stats weren't fair, he wasn't a virgin. Though he supposed by the standards slave buyers were expecting, maybe he was.

"'ease! 'ack!"

Jack looked up, his smile faltering. "The Doctor's been worried about you," He said, almost reluctantly, as if he didn't want to believe it to be true. "Even asked me to keep a look out, which must mean something, but I had this little mission to complete first."

The Master's eyes widened in desperation and he pleaded again, but not for himself this time.

"Is 'e o'ay?"

Jack raised his eyebrows. "I doubt that you care." There was a pause as Jack began to circle the Master's hanging form in predatory fashion. "Yes, physically. No, emotionally. He's torn to pieces over you."

The Master tried to say something, but ended up coughing. His body tried to draw his tongue back in, but the metal forced against instinct and he was suddenly struck by a coughing choking fit. Jack lazily strolled over to the screen and pressed a few buttons. The metal released the grip on his tongue.

The Master coughed wildly for a few moments then spat on the floor. "Fuck!" He yelled breathlessly, letting out a stream of anger and release in that one word.

"Something wrong?"

The Master raised his eyes to Jack and glared fiercely at him. "You need to help me."

"Oh do I now?"

The Master sighed in frustration and yanked on the chains, a silent signal that Jack should set them back to their original height. It was becoming a painful strain on his shoulders. Jack made no sign of moving.

"You need to tell the Doctor where I am."

"Why would I do that?"

"Please Jack!" He couldn't believe he was begging, but what else could he do. Escape had presented itself before him, but escape was behaving very irritatingly. "Get me out with the other slaves, please!"

Jack considered for a moment. "Well, if I am going to buy you, I suppose I should inspect the goods first."

The Master raised his eyebrows, then widened his eyes as Jack disappeared behind him. A hand pressed against his back and he arched away as the pain overcame him. Jack tutted. "These look painful. Naughty slave are you?"

The Master gritted his teeth and replied with silence. Jack continued to run his fingers over some choice scars before he got bored of the Master's lack of response. The Master cried out as two fingers shoved roughly up his arse, no preparation or warning. He squirmed helplessly away as Jack crooked his fingers inside him.

"Wow you're tight. They weren't kidding."

The Master's cheeks flushed pink and he kicked uselessly as Jack pressed deeper into him. It felt like an age before the fingers were removed. He breathed a sigh of relief, but Jack was now moving in front of him, a hand trailing aimlessly over his thigh.

"These are new," He said with amusement, giving one of the Master's piercings a flick. His nipple responded with a burst of hot pain, still sore from the original piercing. "I wanted some for ages, but you know, the healing thing. Piercings always just close up."

Jack was speaking so casually as if this was so commonplace, and the Master was reminded of how easy it had been to calmly converse with Jack while he creatively tortured him. Those conversations had been one sided too.

"They didn't really go with my image either. More of a bottom thing you know? But on you... They suit you."

The Master winced as Jack pinched his nipple and began to work it between thumb and forefinger. He gasped in pain at an extra tight squeeze.

"Okay Harkness, you've had your fun."

Jack nodded in agreement and headed back to the screen. He waved his hand over the console and the Master felt the pull on his wrists ease up slightly. Then the metal clamp was forcing its way back into his mouth and gripping tight to his tongue again.

He cried out in confusion, glaring at Jack with an expression filled with betrayal.

"'et 'eeee out of 'ere." The Master shouted at him, tongue once again pulled out in front.

"Say please," Jack said slyly, smile obvious.

The Master clenched his fists. "'ease!"

"No rush. It's not like you're going anywhere."

The door slid open and Jack stepped out into the corridor, coat swishing behind him. The Master watched him go with wide angry and terrified eyes, shouting a stream of curses after him.

"I'll tell the Doctor you're here," He said finally before the door slid closed again.

 

 

 

 

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

The Master found himself crying hot tears once the restraints let him go. They were tears of fierce anger, balled up and ready to throw at Harkness at the first chance. He could have been free, but he'd been denied that by some jumped up freak. He thought for a moment about the words Jack had said about the Doctor being worried about him. He swallowed hard.

He didn't have time to consider for too long however. He'd barely had a moments rest before the familiar voice was instructing him. "You will eat."

It took him longer to kneel than usual and he winced harder at the pain in his nipples as they pulled him forwards and the metal thrust against the back of his throat. The liquid tingled and danced across his skin as it settled in his stomach.

The days were dark and timeless and the Master couldn't tell how long it had been since Jack had come to torment and laugh at him. He passed through two more potential showings for new masters, each time terrified that someone else would snap him up. Each time no sign of the Doctor or Jack. As the slave buyers flicked through his stats they saw increasing obedience and submission. He wanted to disobey and deny the voice, but the punishments were too painful. He'd been subjected to three whippings and one session of violent electric shock between the second and third showings.

Knowing what the day entailed, the Master didn't protest as his wrists and ankles were drawn apart from ceiling to floor and his nipples and tongue stretched out in front of him. He kept his eyes focused on the ground as various buyers passed through his cell. Some would circle him with a keen eye, others would touch him appreciatively and he'd wince through it all.

The showings went on for hours, until the final buyer had gone through. It was obvious that not everyone was a serious buyer and that most people passing through were here for the show.

The door slid open again and the Master groaned inwardly at the thought of another session of being poked and prodded and his intimate parts thoroughly examined.

"Oh my God."

Steps closer towards him, a hand on his cheek.

"I'm so sorry. What have they done to you?"

The Master looked up into the Doctor's eyes and felt them welling up. It was the first gentle touch he'd felt for weeks.

He wanted to yank the chains off and wrap himself around the Doctor, cling to him for all eternity, but he just jangled at them weakly.

The Doctor seemed to jump out of his stupor and ran to the console to program in the right numbers. He released the clamps from his tongue and nipples and loosened the chains, but they couldn't be removed completely. The Master's captors were aware of the potential profit loss of a stolen slave.

With the chains loose the Master could now collapse against the Doctor's waiting arms. He fell forward as far as he could go before being pulled taut, and lay there for a long time.

"Jack told me straight away, I came as soon as I could."

The Master thought back to the blurred day when Jack had come to taunt. That had been weeks ago now. The bastard.

"I'm sorry, this is all my fault."

The Master wanted to say something, murmur that this was no one's fault, or say anything really, but no words came out. The Doctor looked up at him.

"Can you speak?" His question was full of concern, his eyes worryingly wide.

The Master nodded slowly.

"Okay, I'm going to get you out of here, right now."

He brought out his sonic screwdriver and began to work at the cuffs on the Master's wrists. He'd been working for less than a minute when a bright spark shot out the metal and the Master screamed in pain. His wrist was burning at the electric shock that had been sent through his system. His captors took no precautions it seemed.

"No no no no! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to! I'm sorry!"

The Doctor was a mess, his words jumbling. The Master just leaned against his shoulder in silence for a few moments. Then he spoke, soft and raspy.

"You have to buy me."

"What?"

"Please, Doctor," The Master muttered, completely exhausted. "You need to buy me."

The Doctor looked confused for a moment. Then he nodded slowly and went back to the console. He flicked a few buttons until he reached a payment screen.

"Would it flatter you to know you're very expensive?" He tried to joke, his voice sounding flat.

The Master laughed, then regretted laughing as it hurt his throat. "You can't afford me."

The Doctor smiled, but the smile faltered when a dealer entered the room.

"A fine purchase sir! Very good!" He said enthusiastically as he processed the Doctor's credit chip. "Caused us a bit of trouble at first, but we broke him."

The Doctor held back what very well might be a sob. He cast a rueful look at the Master as the dealer lowered him roughly to the ground. He wanted to cradle the Master, lower him gently into his arms, but a wrong move would set off alarm bells. He watched as the Master's wrists were connected behind his back, then a chain attached to his collar.

The Doctor reluctantly took the other end. He stood next to the Master, holding the chain, not wanting to pull him along or put even the slightest strain on him.

"Wait!" The dealer called after him, as he was about to hoist the Master into his arms. He froze. "One last thing."

He took hold of the Master's chain and yanked his head downwards, the Master groaned softly in response and the Doctor glared at the dealer.

"Your thumb please," He instructed the Doctor. The Doctor curiously held out his hand and the dealer pressed it to the Master's collar. It felt like an instant electric shock between them, fairly mild comparatively, but the Doctor pulled his hand away. The Master's eyes glazed over and his lips went slack.

"What did you do?" The Doctor asked aggressively, but the dealer just looked casually back.

"He's chained to you now, your imprint is in the bands." He gestured to the silver wrapped around the Master's wrists, ankles and neck. "You're his master now."

The Doctor's stomach dropped to the floor. "How do I get those off?" He asked.

The dealer laughed. "Why would you want to?" But the Doctor's serious expression led him on. "You can't. They're sealed permanently."

The Doctor tried not to worry about it for now, the Master barely looked conscious let alone awake enough to process such a statement. He thanked the dealer and waited for him to disappear down the corridor, shaking his head as he went.

As soon as he was out of sight the Doctor lifted the Master's limp body into his arms.


	7. Chapter 7

The Master awoke in the medical bay, lying on a soft gurney, the Doctor looking down at him.

"Welcome back." He smiled uncertainly and sighed in relief when the Master returned it, just slightly. "It's okay, you're safe now. How do you feel?"

The Master stretched his limbs a little, feeling the extent of his current freedom. Nothing ached and he felt warm, and the Doctor was here. The Doctor's very presence made him feel prickly all over, a pleasant sensation. He shifted closer towards him.

"Fine actually."

The Doctor frowned and checked a few of the Master's vital signs. Everything seemed to be in order, no anomalies or high heart rates. Everything was normal.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive," The Master said, sighing and relaxing back into the pillows.

"Feeling up for some bad news?" The Doctor tested nervously, shifting from foot to foot.

"Can't be worse that what I've been through."

The Doctor nodded silently, fingers tapping over his closed lips in silent thought.

"I've tried to get your cuffs and the...collar off, but nothing seems to work."

The Master was quiet for a moment. He absently touched the smooth silver wrapped round his wrists and then brought his fingers to his neck.

"What these things? Oh that doesn't matter."

The Doctor started, but continued on. "There wasn't much damage. I've fixed all that."

"How long have I been out?"

"Only a week," The Doctor explained. He began to check the Master's blood pressure and the Master was patient as the Doctor recorded his stats. The Doctor moved with slow calculated movements, not wanting to startle the Master, but the Master seemed perfectly calm. Every instruction he gently gave was followed without question.

"Okay, all done," He announced finally. "Physically, you're fine, but we can take everything slow for now."

"Whatever you say Master."

There was silence. The Master clapped his hand to his mouth, pulling at his lips in shock while the Doctor stared wide eyed back at him.

"What?" Was all he could say. The Master kept his palm over his mouth and shook his head.

"Okay, okay, we're okay." The Doctor began to pace and his breathing was speeding up considerably. "Lunch, we can do lunch. Hungry?"

The Master nodded slowly and slipped off the gurney. The Doctor put a hand on his shoulder to steady him and was about to guide him to the kitchen when he looked down shocked.

"Are you okay? Don't worry I've got you."

His hands were round the Master's shoulders who'd collapsed to his knees in front of the Doctor. The Doctor waited for the Master to respond by standing, but he just kept staring straight ahead. His hands leapt up to the front of the Doctor's trousers and started to fumble with the zip.

"What...what are you doing?" The Doctor asked, voice full of panic, gripping tight to the Master's wrists to stop him. The Master stilled, bringing his hands to his sides.

"I don't know," He said quietly. "I thought that's what...I don't... I can't..."

His mind was blurring, stuck on replay and the Doctor just stared until he came to his senses. He hoisted the Master up and placed him back on the gurney.

"I'll need to do some more thorough tests, find out what they did to your brain." He tried to keep his voice steady, for the Master's sake, but the Master was nodding along, agreeing with every word. "Keep calm okay? We'll work it all out, we'll be back to normal before you can say pi to a hundred decimal places."


	8. Chapter 8

It was strange at first, almost difficult, for the Doctor most of all. The Master always seemed to be there when he needed him, even when the thought was so vague in his mind, out of nowhere the Master would appear.

The Doctor wasn't used to giving commands, so mostly he didn't, but the Master would respond to even the slightest remark almost immediately.

The Doctor had done all he could, worked through to the very core of the brain and removed everything.

"All this will fall apart," The Doctor explained. "You won't be bound to me anymore."

To the Doctor's surprise the Master had started to cry, then to sob, and then to wail. It was uncontrollable and so unlike anything he'd seen before. He'd had to hold the Master and affirm that he was wanted and needed and safe, and it felt so wrong, so strange.

He'd tried again.

"Nothing is tying you to me except the biological imprint. I promise, you can just will yourself out and you will be."

The Doctor was desperate. When the Master came to him on hands and knees, hunger in his eyes, and his lips wet and slack, he wanted to run. It wasn't right, it wasn't the natural order. The Master was not born to serve, or so he thought, but it was coming naturally to him even when nothing compelled him to do so.

Today was just like most days. The Doctor was lying in a spacious and comfortable bed, the Master curled up against him, head resting on his stomach. The Doctor's hand was absently playing through the Master's hair which he no longer bothered to keep so neat and cropped.

The Doctor winced as the cool metal of a cuff brushed against his own bare skin, a reminder that the Master was technically his property.

"It would be so simple to be free. We can go back to normal," He said. "Just will it to be so."

The Master sighed and dragged himself up the bed to face the Doctor. "We've been through this so many times, and I keep telling you. I want to be yours."

"The old you wouldn't have said that," The Doctor mumbled. "The real you."

"Doctor, this is the real me. I've come to learn that now."

The Doctor shook his head. It was all so wrong, but he'd searched in the Master's vast mind for some kind of lock or barrier, and there was nothing, but he refused to believe this was truly the Master's will.

The Doctor knew that the Master obeyed his every word. He'd only have to command the Master to forget this self and he'd be forced to obey, but that felt unnatural too. He'd have to do that in the end though, if it was the only way.

But at that moment, with the Master snug against him, fingertips idly wandering over bare skin, the sweet kisses and caresses felt pleasant and warm. One day he'd force the Master to revert, but not today. Not today.


End file.
